Late Night Rendezvous
by walkthemoon17
Summary: Something about the irritable werewolf is magnetic. Stiles honestly doesn't know when, or how all of this started. All he knows is that this isn't some high school romance, or some summer fling, and it isn't natural, or cliché, or decent in the least. It's raw, and—though sometimes violent—real. SLASH. MALEXMALE. If you don't like, don't read. No flames please ;) R&R, yeah?


Stiles feel strong arms wrap around his torso. He knows who it is without having to look. "Derek," he says, voice almost like a whisper in dim lighted room. Those fingers drag down his torso, nails catching on the blue and green striped fabric. Derek's breath on his ear makes his knees buckle, and his palm slaps loudly on the top of his dresser as he steadies himself. This man; God, this man is going to be the death of him. His heart stutters when Derek speaks.

"Your heart's racing," he breathes, voice low and somewhat dangerous, but it's the constant danger of being with Derek Hale—like _this—_that makes everything so addictive, so thrilling, so _impossible _to control, and even more impossible to avoid. Something about the irritable werewolf is magnetic. Stiles honestly doesn't know when, or _how _all of this started. All he knows is that this isn't some high school romance, or some summer fling, and it isn't natural, or cliché, or decent in the least. It's raw, and—though sometimes violent—_real_.

Stiles feels like he's suffocating, like he's drowning in everything about this moment. He almost moans when he feels Derek's tongue drag across his neck.

"_Derek_," Stiles says again, desperate and breathy. He feels the werewolf growl softly against his skin. Fangs scrape along the shell of his ear.

"You're really testing my self-control," Derek warns.

"Would you look at that," Stiles taunts, _"Derek Hale _losing his marbles because of an irritating, hyperactive _kid."_

Derek growls a bit louder.

Stiles grins. "Shhh, don't wanna wake up my dad."

A nip at the curve of his jaw draws a hushed gasp from the teen. One of Derek's hands finds its way under Stiles' shirt, fingers splayed flat against the pale skin of his stomach. The kid almost loses _his_ marbles when the other reaches down to firmly grab his hardness through his jeans.

"Eager, are we?" Derek muses, smirking against Stiles' neck.

"C-could say the same to you," Stiles replies breathlessly, grinding his hips back into Derek's. The shuddering breath that's released as a result makes a shiver crawl up Stiles' spine, and he moans softly.

"Shit, Stiles," Derek pants, " I'm turning."

"Good."

"_Not_ good, you idiot," Derek growls.

"You won't hurt me," Stiles breathes.

"You don't know that."

Stiles turns around to face the werewolf, laying his hands flat on his chest and shoving him roughly onto the bed, earning an aggravated growl.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Sourwolf," Stiles grins, settling himself in said-"Sourwolf's" lap. He threads his hands through his dark hair, covering the older man's mouth with his own.

"I mean, you can't tell me you don't want this."

"Stiles, it's not that I—"

_"You won't hurt me. _I'm not scared of you, anyways."

Derek frowns. "You say that like it's a good thing."

"Maybe it is."

He slowly starts to grind himself into Derek's hips, groaning at the sudden friction. Derek is suddenly kissing him like it's all he's ever wanted to do, and Stiles' groans into it. He runs his tongue behind a tapered fang, a growl resonating from Derek's mouth to the back of his throat.

"Too many clothes," Derek gasps, and Stiles couldn't agree more. He practically rips the werewolf's shirt of, and Derek literally _tears his shirt from his body._

"Hey, I kinda liked that shirt," Stiles protests, but Derek shuts him up pretty quickly. The man's tongue delves past Stile's lips and he groans, letting him explore his mouth before joining in on the fun. The kiss is messy and rushed, and saliva is strung between them when they part, but neither of them cares. Stiles is suddenly fumbling with the button of Derek's pants while Derek invents a new game called "Distract the Hell Out of Stiles While He Tries to Unbutton A Certain Sourwolf's Pants." For the record, Stiles loses.

_"Derek," _He whines, "Let me._..hold on."_

Derek growls impatiently, but ceases his movement long enough for him to rid him of his pants and briefs. There's nothing about this man that isn't perfect. Stiles runs his hands up Derek's toned stomach, watching how the muscles contract under his fingers. He leans up and plants his mouth just below Derek's ear, nipping at the skin. Derek gasps, and Stiles is determined to hear it again. There's only one problem though. Super werewolf healing makes it extremely difficult to leave marks, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try anyways. Derek squirms beneath him, his hardness pressed against Stiles' stomach.

"Enough with the neck," Derek growls, and Stiles' laughs. He trails open mouthed kisses down the column of said-body part, across his collar-bone, and the werewolf groans softly. Clawed hands clutch at his sheets in restraint, most likely tearing holes in them. When he reaches the man's naval, he wraps a hand around his obvious arousal and drags his teeth across the nearly feverish skin. He hears a gasp and grins. Stiles thumbs the head of him and tightens his grip.

"Feel good?" He asks cheekily. All he gets is a grunt in response. He pumps him in his hand for a few moments before grinning deviously. He takes the whole of him in his mouth, nose brushing the patch of dark curls. He never really thought he'd want to suck someone's cock, let alone /enjoy/ it, but he can't seem to get enough of Derek. He gags when the werewolf presses i to the back of his throat. Derek groans loudly, back arching slightly.

"Stop," He gasps, "Stiles, stop, I'm almost..."

Stiles groans around his dick, thoroughly enjoying the shudder that runs through his body. His hands grip Derek's hips, stilling them so that he can _move_ without choking.

"_Stiles,"_ Derek groans. "I'm really..."

He feels hands threading through his hair, gripping it tightly, and Stiles can't remember a time he's ever been so happy to have grown his hair out. His movements become more vigorous, and Derek arches into his mouth, making him gag slightly. He pulls away and resorts to furiously working the wolf in his hand, kissing him almost violently. Derek kisses back with just as much force, if not more. He growls into Stiles' mouth, hands still in his hair.

"Hey, Derek..." Stiles breathes in his ear.

Derek groans responsively.

"You wanna fuck me?"

That's all he has to say. Derek has them flipped over in a matter of _seconds. _

His hands and mouth are everywhere. The wolf nearly tears his pants from his body, fangs leaving red marks in their wake as they drag across the skin of his abdomen. His back arches from the bed, hands sifting through dark hair as the older man drops the article of clothing and crawls up to eye level.

"You in control?" Stiles asks lowly.

His reply is a_ very _ human fingers nudging his entrance. A shudder runs up his spine and he gasps quietly. The sound turns into a groan as the fingers slip inside, twisting and stroking the inside of him. The blunt pads of them nudge at his prostrate, coaxing a keening whine from the teen. Derek looks down at Stiles and his golden brown eyes, pupils blown wide and glassy with arousal and desperation, and begins to slowly thrust his fingers inside of him. Stiles' breath hitches and his body goes rigid for a moment before melting into some kind of sexually frustrated puddle of goo. His limbs feel like gelatin and his muscles like putty that Derek can bend to his liking. A jolt of pleasure streaks across his nerves when Derek's fingers bump his prostrate again. Derek is everywhere; kissing his neck, unoccupied fingers digging sharply into his hipbone. His stubble scratches at the teen's jaw as he sucks diligently on the sensitive skin below Stiles' ear. Stiles gasps wetly as he scissors his fingers inside of him, the sound hanging in the dark room with the half-moon as a nightlight. It illuminates the boy's pale skin until it looks like porcelain, milky white against the dark bed sheets.

"Derek," he gasps, "_Please."_

He whimpers at the loss of Derek's fingers. Said-wolf flips the teen over so that his face is pressed into the bed sheets, ass raised. He feels vulnerable.

"Ready?" Derek whispers.

"Have been for a while," Stiles quips. Derek slowly presses forwards until the entire thing is sheathed inside of the teen. Stiles can't breathe. It's too much. He presses his face into the mattress, gasping for breath. All these sensations are overwhelming, and he feels like he's being suffocated by everything that is purely _Derek. _ The wolf is a drug, and an extremely addictive one at that. He hears Derek gritting his teeth together and grinds up into him. The man goes rigid and groans, pressing his face in the crook of Stiles' neck. The wolf's breath is warm and humid against his collarbone.

"Move," Stiles pleads, hitching his legs around Derek's hips and drawing him froward. A low growl vibrates against his skin, goosebumps erupting across his flesh. God, he'd forgotten just how incredibly _big _Derek is. He's so full, stretched to his very limit, and he can't seem to relax enough or get used to the size when Derek pulls out and slowly thrusts back in. His mouth is open, but there's no sound as he arches off the bed, muscles contracting around the wolf, trying to get rid of the large intrusion.

"Stop trying to push me out," Derek growls. Stiles shudders.

"...So fucking _big," _Stiles gasps, and he feels Derek grin into his shoulder blades. Stiles moans a little too loudly when Derek surges forward hips presses into Stiles' ass. The wolf's hand covers Stiles' mouth to muffle the sounds as he sets a steady rhythm. God, Derek's amazing. Stiles' curses his damn wolfy powers, because how else can he be so damn _good? _ He feels the head scrape against his prostrate, drawing a raspy, shuddering groan from the teen. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming when Derek increases in pace _and _force, slamming into his prostrate with everything he has. Stiles' arms tremble. They aren't going to hold him up much longer. Derek drapes himself over Stiles, desperately grinding his hips into the teen. He reaches around and firmly grips the kid's erection, working him in firm strokes. Stiles' arms give out then, forearms now shrouding his sweaty forehead. Derek wraps his other arm around his torso, pulling him upright, Stiles' damp back pressed into a broad sweaty chest. Derek's grip on his dick tightens, stokes increasing in speed with his thrusts. He's going insane. God, he can't breathe, because he's dying, then he's just _there,_ and his whole body freezes, knees locking. His teeth sink into the hand covering his mouth, muscles spasm around Derek. He covers Derek's hand in his mess, hips going numb. The wolf pants into his neck, breath hot and humid, and his thrusts are erratic and shallow. His hips lurch and twitch as he comes, spilling into the teen. They both collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily. Stiles wonders if Derek notices the extremely small amount of oxygen in the room, or if it's just him, but he really can't breathe. His chest heaves and he idly contemplates the fact that he may or may not be having a cardiac arrest.

Derek rolls over and kisses him, and it's gentle and sweet and sensual and everything Derek usually _isn't,_ and Stiles fucking _loves it. _He feels his pulse slow, breaths evening, and he melts into the man's one-arm embrace.

"I thought your heart was going to explode," Derek murmurs, as he pulls away.

"You wish, Sourwolf," Stiles slurs tiredly. Derek snorts and drapes an arm over Stiles' waist, nuzzling into the boy's neck. He inhales slowly, breathing in the scent of purely /Stiles/ and sex and himself. For a second, Stiles contemplates commenting on the broody werewolf's inner cuddle monster, but he's too tired. He curls himself around the older man, breathing in the scent of musky pines and Derek. His eyes flutter shut as he sighs happily.

Best. Night. Fucking_. Ever. _

* * *

The first thing Stiles realizes the next morning is that everything really fucking hurts. He has cramps in muscles he didn't even know _existed. _The second thing he realizes is that he is naked. Very, very naked, and that there is somebody in his bed. The third thing is that the somebody is_ Derek fucking Hale; _the broody, Greek god—Sourwolf Extraordinaire.

"Stiles!" His father calls. "Are you up?"

He winces. _Shit._ Now he has to wake Derek up to answer. "Uhh…Yeah! Yeah, I'm up. Just a sec, Dad."

Derek grumbles some kind of irritated, incoherent nonsense and pulls Stile's back down. He yelps in surprise.

"Shh," He hears Derek say.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Big Guy, but I—"

"Shhh."

"Derek, I really have to—"

"_Shut up, Stiles."_

"Right. Shutting. But I seriously have to go to—"

"Shut. The _fuck._ _**Up."**_ Derek growls.

…A day off couldn't hurt.

Right?

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys! So...I am obsessed with these two. I've found that recently, I've been more into the maleXmale pairings in shows and things. I'm still devoted to NaLu though and I have a story coming in soon. It's a ling one though. I also have a Darker Than Black story that I just have to type up, but other than this and those two, I may not be posting much of anything because I'm really bust this summer with vacation and camp and band camp (yes, I am a band geek. Deal with it), and I usually do most of my writing in school. Ya know, during classes (all of them) that I don't pay attention in. Can't believe I haven't failed yet. Anyways, I got really off track there. I honestly don't even what I'm trying to say here. While I'm at it, here are some stories I would like updated ASAP. There's a lot._

_From Teen Wolf:_

_Blood Moon-WritingintheCandlelight_

_He Was Done-NessaRose89_

_This Time With Feeling (err...the second part)-Crimson1_

_Where is My Mind-EagleEye14_

_From Merlin:_

_Where Loyalties Lie- ExplosionsInTheNight_

_From Fairy Tail:_

_Dragon Wars-Death from Shadows_

_Adherence (OHMYGODOHMYGODIFRIGGENLOVETHISSTORY)-ToxiNeena_

_The Princess and the Pirate-LeeSUP_

_From Soul Eater:_

_Cinnamon Milk, Wet Forest, and His Father's Jacket-Tonight-is-frightnight_

_IF YOU AUTHORS ARE READING THIS. PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU. I LOVE THESE STORIES SO MUCH. (And if I made a mistake and one of these is already completed, please tell me.)_

_THANK YOU ALL. REVIEW AND I MAY SEND AN EXCERPT OF ONE OF THE TWO STORIES IF YOU SO CHOOSE. AND TELL ME WHICH ONE. Also...I may just type those faster with lovely reviews. Derek and Stiles love reviews. They love them almost as much as they love each other, but THEY WON'T ADMIT IT AND IT PISSES ME OFF. JUST DO IT ALREADY. *Ehem* Sorry about that. Anyway, catch y'all on the flipside. _

_HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE SLASHY, SMUTTY GOODNESS. I sure did ;) (OH GOD JUST KIDDING)_


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